Like A Record Skipping On Its Turntable Part 2

I apologize for the length of this story.  I'll be reposting The Rock story from my old blog in a few days.  I hope you enjoy part two.  This is as real as I get, people.

 

Afterward, and for the rest of the day, I was alright. 

Until this morning.  Monday morning.  Back to the old grind.  For as boring as my job may be, I may as well be shoveling salt into a cart for nine hours with no lunch break.  The thoughts entered my head. 

Of course it doesn’t matter what these women say or do.  What matters is what Shawn says or does.  It’s his reaction is what matters.  But his story had so many details; could he have made it up?  And if he didn’t make it up, how on God’s green earth could he remember her shorts were blue from eleven years ago?  Do I know him as well as I think I do.  Sure I do, I’ve known him since I was fourteen.  He loves me and would never do anything to hurt me. 

But what if?  This line of thinking betrayed my own trust.  Don’t I trust him?  He brought me the biggest bouquet of balloons to my English class in high school on Valentine’s Day!  He gives me his paycheck every single week, for deposit into the bank so I can pay the bills.  He’s not like some of his work buddies who cash their checks, go get drunk and give their wives what little is left over.

For Pete’s sake, he cried when he watched the DVD I had made from ages-old VHS cassettes all about us.  I made it for his birthday to demonstrate how much I loved him, because I’m no good at speaking my feelings.  (It really was beautiful, if I say so myself!)

He sneaked into my car once while I was working and had placed dyed posies on the passenger seat.  He comes home to me every night.  In high school, he beat up Karl, when I got hit in the eye.  He took on The Rock at a WWF show after The Rock had spit into the crowd and the loogie landed right on me.  He took on a 6’4” and 260 lb beast, all because he was playing the villian and just so happened to spit on me (it’s in my other blog--I’ll post that story here soon).

All for me.  He talks about getting out of this dead-end job so he can give me and buy me all the things I deserve.  I tell him I do not deserve anything.  “You deserve everything,” he says.

But what if….?  The temptations are certainly there.  Shawn is easy to talk to, he’s fun and somewhat charming.  The women these days simply do not hit on the men any more--they go after them like monsters.  They flirt in a much more aggressive manner than I was ever aware of.

Shawn doesn’t wear his wedding ring because he often works with electrical stuff.  Understandable.  But these women do not ask, they assume nothing, they simply pounce like a hungry cheetah taking down the weakest of the gazelles. 

Still….

What if…..?

I couldn’t take it anymore.  I can’t live like this!!  My stomach was in knots.  I can’t read his mind.  Yes, I believe him, but can anyone be 100% sure of what is being said.  It’s only words, after all, I wasn’t there to witness anything personally.  You can bet that if I had been there, Little Miss Blue Shorts would have making a trip to the emergency room with a broken nose and I‘d be having my fist tested for blood-transmitted diseases.

No, I suppose that’s not very Christian-like. 

I couldn’t take it anymore.  I felt like I would throw up!  I recalled something Brother Henry had said, maybe it was at Easter service.  Maybe a few weeks ago.  I couldn’t remember.  He said, in so many words that you’ve got to be willing to give it to God, no matter what it was.  Be willing to give it all to Him, and he will take it from you, like that!

I’d spent the better part of three, four hours going through this back and forth.  I’d prayed God would remove this doubt, these ugly thoughts---then the torture would start again, like a broken record, skipping on it’s turntable…

Alright, God.  I AM willing.  I am willing to give it ALL to you, right here, right now.  Please take it from me, all these thoughts of doubt, any thought that I have against Shawn which is not true, take it from me.  I give it all to You.  I cannot do this by myself, I cannot live like this.  I know he loves me so I am asking you to please hear me and take away this pain, this torture, these thoughts that keep running through my head, I give it to you!!!  Let me forget all of this, as though it never happened.

There it was.  I was pressing a cotton blouse on the hot-head while I did this.  A wave of calm washed over me.  I was not light as air and hyper-active as I was last time, no this was different.  I was calm, mellow.  You must understand, I am NEVER calm.  I’m full of anxiety, most times, and when I am calm and mellow, it’s usually just before bed, or an hour after taking a Benadryl.

This was….so different.  I felt rational.  I felt very…calm.  I didn’t really think much about it the rest of the day until I sat down to write this. 

For the next couple of hours, at least, I prayed to Jesus that Shawn be given a new job, a good job, with good, decent people.  I prayed for a welding job, which he loves so much, and that the job would be so perfect, there would be no question whether it be right or wrong.  I prayed for Shawn to be showered with blessings, to be given strength, patience, to be led away from temptation and closer to God.  I prayed for my family, that they too, might know God.  I prayed for myself, for patience and understanding, for a direction in my life and guidance.  I prayed for a nudge to make me want to read the Bible, that I might learn something.  I prayed for Shawn to quit smoking, and for me to get off my nicotine habit, the Electronic Cigarette (see past posts).  I prayed that we would find a wonderful church here in the city instead of passing on the forty minuet drive nearly every Sunday to our regular church.    I prayed for strength in our marriage.  I prayed God would reach both me and Shawn and make us into He wants us to be, that we might help others and do what He wants us to do.

I do not yet know what my purpose is here.  Sure, we all have the purpose to love each other as much as possible before we die, but what are my aspirations?  What should I strive to do in life?  Surely it is not to clean stains from business men’s white shirts.  My relationship with God is easily described as my emotions--as a roller coaster.  Near and far, near and far.  Sometimes I battle God, sometimes, I yearn to be closer.  I prayed especially that He might show me what I am supposed to do while I am here.  Twenty-nine years and I am still not sure.  Maybe this is it.  This blog.  If I reach one person, would I be serving a purpose?  I think so.

I’ll admit that I am not a very good Christian.  I am not regular in church, I’m judgmental, and I complain too much.  I take everything for granted and I spend way too much time in front of the television.  I don’t treat my body as a temple, I’m addicted to nicotine, and I can be downright mean at times.  It’s hard for me to forgive, much less forget.  At times, I take too much stock in the things--merely things--that I don’t have, rather than be superbly grateful for all the blessings I do have.

Nobody said it was going to be easy.  But, I do believe I change.  Yes, I am that psycho girlfriend portrayed in all the romance-comedy movies.  But with God’s help, I can work to change that.  As it says in the Bible, and as my best email-buddy tells me so often…

I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.